


requiem for the beloved

by nea_writes



Series: inside; all pain and destruction [1]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Another take at the end of DGM, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-26 12:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15000806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nea_writes/pseuds/nea_writes
Summary: “I am not violent. I am not malicious. I am a result.”The ends justifies the means. That had been the guiding principle behind everything he did — at the end of it all, it'd be worth it. It had to be.Or, the ending where Neah gets everything he wanted, for better or for worse.





	requiem for the beloved

**Author's Note:**

> I always think I've run out of possible Mana and Allen fics and I prove myself wrong, time and again. (On that note, please don’t read this as romantic. It’s strictly platonic/familial)
> 
> I had such severe writer's block but this idea wouldn't let go of me and I'm glad I finally finished it. I'd already started on the sequel before I finished this so look forward to that too!
> 
> Another take on the ending of dgm.
> 
> Next in the series: like a wounded god

The sun was setting.

It was a glorious sunset. Through all the smoke the sky turned red, like blood, unnerving if it wasn't so beautiful. Beside him, Mana, the Mana he had once knew and not the man he had become, stared with gold eyes hazy with tears.

Neah looked at the bleeding sky and felt his own eyes dry as the wind that pulled at his hair, and yet, somehow, it felt like there were tears.

They sat side by side in the cradle of a dead trees roots, Neah's hands covering Mana's as his fingers dug into the soft dirt kept safe by the gnarled limbs. At their backs, the bark was warm from the sun it had soaked in all day, and he could almost imagine what an embrace might feel like, one filled with love and yearning.

He glanced at Mana openly, staring at the tears that finally spilled over on his cheeks. Neah had born witness to many types of crying. Tears of happiness, of sorrow, of desperation and anger and hatred and love. They were all different. The tears Mana cried now, heavy and meaningful — what were they?

Basking in the rays of a sun soon to be gone, Neah found he had no words, and neither did Mana. Yet, there was a pause, a wait, a moment fast fading, but one Neah was clutching as tightly as he held Mana's hand. Soon, it would be gone.

Like the wind through winding through wheat fields, whisper soft and gentle, Mana spoke to the setting sun.

"Did I love him?"

Neah didn't have the answer for that, and perhaps the reason Mana asked was because Neah never lied to him. Never, despite all the grief that could have been spared. Instead, painstakingly, with the gesture of one returning to a childhood home they'd long since abandoned, Neah leaned down and rested his head on Mana's shoulder. Closing his eyes, he felt his throat grow tight, ensnared. Ah... this. This is what he had missed.

"Neah?"

Mana always sounded so childlike when he called Neah's name. As if Neah was the one who banished all that was evil from the light, and the one who Mana always returned to.

With much more ease, Mana tilted his head to rest on Neah's. The shift left Mana's hair feathering over Neah's, but it was a comfort. To be side by side, at last.

"...do you want to see him?" Neah managed at last, words small and constrained, each one deliberately chosen. It had been far too long since Neah had last allowed himself to cry. It felt like he'd forgotten how to, with dry eyes and this aching in his heart.

Mana shifted, turning towards Neah minutely, but still facing the sun. Idly, Neah flipped their hands over, so the dirt brushed the back of Neah's hand and Mana's was left exposed.

"Do you?" Mana asked.

Neah smiled, humorless. He'd always been like that.

"I do," Neah said, answering for Mana himself.

 

It was simpler than it might seem to call Allen back.

Neah nudged Mana with his shoulder and gestured with his free hand towards the sun. It was just a little past noon, and Neah pointed at the spot on the horizon where it would set. “Call his name and he’ll be here.”

“His name?” Mana echoed, but nudged back against Neah, who obligingly eased off Mana’s shoulder. With a soft, _hup,_ Mana got on his heels, balanced with a hand on Cornelia, then stood straight, holding a hand to stay the hair whipped around by the wind.

“You should know better than anyone,” Neah added, just a bit vindictive, “how important names are.”

Mana whipped back, eyes wide and face framed by hurt, and with a sinking feeling Neah realized he must’ve stumbled onto something. Scowling, Neah tucked his arms around himself, angry at what he didn’t know, couldn’t possibly know.

“...just say his name,” Neah bit out, looking away. He couldn’t see Mana’s face, but saw his hesitation before he turned forwards again.

Mana paused, as if gathering courage — or, maybe for once debating whether bringing Allen here was right for the boy’s benefit, or just another example of the depths of Mana’s selfish nature — but the moment passed, and with a clear voice, Mana said, “Allen.”

Neah closed his eyes, darkness spreading, Mana’s voice echoing as if in a cavern filled with stars. _Allen,_ again, like the ripples of water after it’s been struck. _Allen,_ a ghost of sound, intimate as his own heartbeat. _Allen, can you hear me? I’m right here, Allen._

He could see what Mana felt, could even visualize the boy Mana had known. All wild tufts of hair and scowls hiding the hurt, a chip on his shoulder the size of the moon. Unscarred, face scrubbed clean, eyes glittering with laughter held back. This was Mana’s son.

Neah opened his eyes and met Allen’s wide startled gaze, hair tousled and tugged by the wind.

“There,” Neah said with a smile he didn’t feel. “It worked, see?”

 

Allen stumbled, as if he’d stepped down from a doorway, hands hitting the top of the waving wheat for purchase. His coat was bloody and torn, remnants of the fight, and his hair was loose from the hair tie he’d made a habit of, falling around his face only to be pulled back by the wind abruptly. He regained his balance easily, glancing around at the wheat field familiar to him before snapping back to Neah, gaze skipping over Mana.

“Neah,” Allen scowled, voice filled with not only reproach but anger, too. “What trick are you playing now? How could you _do_ that? All of those _people—”_ his voice hitched, always so sentimental.

Neah met his gaze blankly before remembering where he must’ve pulled Allen from. When Neah let go of control to talk to Mana here, he must’ve left Allen in charge in the middle of all that destruction.

“And _Mana,”_ Allen cried, chest heaving, hands trembling as he brought them up to his face. “Mana was there, he was alive all this time, he was the _Earl,_ and I— what have I been doing this whole time?”

Allen was fast breaking down, in front of Mana no less. Alarmed, Neah scrambled up and brushed past Mana, crossing the several feet into the wheat field and reaching for Allen’s shaking shoulders, anxiety rising as Allen welcomed the embrace and fell into Neah’s chest.

“Hey, hey,” Neah said, soothing. He rubbed Allen’s shoulder and upper arms, trying to ground him. “There’s no time for that now, Allen.” He bit back the truth, which was the simplicity of it all. Allen most likely hadn’t said his goodbyes, and he wouldn’t get the chance to now. “Look at me.”

Allen did, hands hovering around his mouth, anguished. He was openly crying, the selfish boy, because of _Mana_ and the crumbling foundation of everything he’d lived for all these years. Neah could sense the growing guilt swirling behind him as Mana watched the consequences fall apart in front of him.

“Why?” Allen whispered. He took a shuddering breath, brought the heels of his palms up to wipe at his tears. “What did I do?”

 _It’s not your fault,_ Neah thought. _It’s just the way fate is._

But that was an answer Allen would never accept. Someone had to be blamed and Allen would rather nail himself to crosses than to accept that, sometimes, bad things just happened.

Neah couldn’t come up with a response fast enough though, and Allen glanced up and over his shoulder, locking eyes with Mana.

“Who’s that?” Allen demanded, surprisingly hard for someone on the verge of breaking down.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Neah said instead, relieved when the response nudged Allen from despair to anger and annoyance. It was enough though, and he could feel the way Allen catalogued all their similarities.

They were halves of a whole, after all.

Allen’s breath hitched and he shoved away from Neah, stumbling back and bringing his hands to his eyes again. “Neah, this isn’t funny.”

Neah blinked, brows shooting up. “I wasn’t trying to be.”

Allen dropped his hands and glared with an intensity that surprised Neah. He took a settling breath and tried to hide his shaking hands by crossing them, embracing himself. “You know how much he means to me,” Allen whispered, eyes locked on Neah’s as if avoiding seeing anything else. “Make him go away.”

Was this Allen being strong, or weak?

Neah’s lips curled in amusement, gesturing with a lazy wave of his hand to Mana. “This isn’t just an image I made, Allen. He’s here. This is Mana.”

At the name, Allen flinched, as if Neah had lodged an arrow shaft right into his heart, eyes squeezing shut as he grimaced.

“Stop playing around, Neah!” Allen grit out, drawing in on himself.

Neah watched the open display of hurt, curious and detached and all the while feeling jealousy licking at him. Mana’s existence had somehow become much greater to Allen than Neah, the one friend Neah had ever had outside the Noah.

“I’m not,” Neah insisted, voice level now. “I’m not that sadistic.”

Allen snorted.

“Okay, maybe I am,” Neah amended, rolling his eyes. “This isn’t the time for games, though. Just like you’re here, so is he.”

Allen’s eyes shot wide and he tilted his head up, staring at nothing. The realization had struck him, Neah thought. Allen knew what it meant, for Mana to be there like Allen.

He turned slowly, as if moving through water, finally staring and _seeing_ Mana.

“No,” Allen whispered, shaking his head.

Neah smiled, reaching out to grab Allen’s hand. Allen let himself be pulled along, nearly tripping over his feet as Neah carved a path back through the wheat field to where Mana stood in front of Cornelia. When they broke the edge, Allen squeezed Neah’s hand enough to grind his bones, and Neah allowed it dispassionately.

They were mere feet away when Allen started resisting. Neah could feel the rising panic behind him, the way Allen’s breath was short and the tension strung along his arm. He squeezed back and didn’t let Allen run away.

Mana was pale, golden eyes riveted on Allen. All the memories must be crashing back, Neah thought. Good. Mana deserves to remember everything.

Allen inched closer to Neah, almost plastered to his side, and it gave Neah the absurd image of a child hiding behind their mother’s skirt. Scowling and glancing at the sun, Neah blinked away the momentary brightness and reached behind to grasp Allen firmly, bringing him forwards and holding him by his arms.

“This is Mana,” Neah said, voice too loud. “The Mana you knew, the one who remembers you.”

At that, they both flinched. A part of Neah wanted to be kind, but the bigger, colder part of him that he’d let run the show for years knew that this golden field was dying.

Then, for the first time since Neah had met Allen, he turned his head aside, ashamed.

Neah stared, eyes wide.

The Allen he’d known had not been prideful, but always sure of himself. He’d always had a witty remark ready, always knew the most inane things, and always knew how to navigate tense waters. It’d felt, infuriatingly so, that there was never a way for Neah to strike at Allen and win.

It was another hit of many that reminded Neah that his friend had been swallowed whole.

Allen’s voice jerked Neah back from his own memories.

“I…” Allen took a breath, still trembling. “I… I’m sorry.”

As if that had broke the ice encasing Mana, he finally moved, shaking his head slowly. “No,” he stuttered. “No, no don’t apologize—”

“I did _that_ to you!” Allen snapped, then drew himself up, shoulders bunching around his ears as he refused to look up. “I did so much worse. I—”

Mana nearly stumbled as he took several steps forward, closing the distance between them as Neah distantly watched, feeling like an outsider. Mana’s hands hovered over Allen’s shoulders, and Neah wondered if it was because this Allen wasn’t his son or because Mana couldn’t bring himself to touch Allen.

“Listen to me,” Mana said sternly, and Allen froze, eyes locked on his shoes. “I don’t blame you. I… _I’m_ sorry. For saying… that to you.”

Allen shook his head and tried to step back, but Neah was behind him and all he succeeded in doing was pressing close to him. “You had every right to,” Allen murmured, head canted to the side and his hair falling around his face, avoiding every bit of Mana in front of him. “I deserved it.”

“No, no, no don’t say that,” Mana whispered. “You didn’t, how could you blame yourself for that?”

“Easily,” Allen muttered. “You were dead. I killed you. I hurt you.”

Mana flinched at the word dead but he didn’t back away, a show of strength Neah had rarely seen when Mana had looked like this, young and naive. “No,” Mana said, voice firm. “You didn’t do that. That wasn’t your fault.”

“Of course it was!” Allen snapped, and _finally_ , he moved to look at Mana. Neah still couldn’t see his face, but he could hear the tears and the way his voice was weak and strangled, and Neah could almost feel a lump in his throat from how raw Allen’s pain felt. “I did it! I did! I can’t forget it Mana, and I wanted to, I tried for so long. But I’m not going to look away from it. You gave me everything and I… I was so selfish…”

 _“Listen to me,”_ Mana hissed, and his anger must’ve overridden whatever hesitance he felt, because he grabbed Allen by the shoulders tightly, lifting him off from where Neah was supporting him. “You didn’t do it, Allen. I did. The… the Earl did.”

Allen fell deathly still, breathing so shallowly Neah wondered if he was at all. Neah had guessed at what had truly happened the night Mana ‘died,’ but he’d never known the true answer.

“I was lost,” Mana continued, voice gentle and soothing for Allen’s benefit. “I was hiding from what I’d done, just like you did behind that mask. I was wearing the face of someone I had been before, but… I had to leave it behind someday. I… I can’t really tell you exactly how it happened, because I destroyed those memories,” Mana’s eyes flickered towards Neah and back to Allen just as fast, “but I swear Allen I never intended to hurt you or leave you behind.”

“...you didn’t die?”

It was Mana’s turn to look away, ashamed, voice lost for a moment before his gaze slid over to Neah’s again. “...do you remember, Allen? About what souls are?”

Allen shook his head, mute.

“Before, you used to talk about souls. You were more Neah’s friend than mine back then, but sometimes I’d be there with you two. You were very smart, and still are,” Mana smiled, a ghost of the fatherly act he used to maintain, but all it did was make Allen flinch back towards Neah. Mana’s smile dropped. “Souls don’t always stay in one body, and they can live without one for quite some time. Those Second Exorcists are a good example of souls attached to creatures that aren’t necessarily themselves.”

The Second Exorcists were a subject Neah didn’t know much of, since Timcanpy had arrived to the scene late, but he’d spent enough time around to have gathered the gist of it.

“My soul was gone from that body, but I myself wasn’t ever entirely dead. In fact, a piece of it is still with you,” Mana reached up, fingers brushing shy of Allen’s forehead, who’d gone breathlessly still. Neah shifted to move closer to Allen’s side than his back, observing the pentagram he’d always wondered about above Allen’s eye. “I’m why you can see souls. You’ve had a bit of the Earl in your eye all this time.”

Allen’s hand drifted up, tracing the scar decorating his cheek, but he didn’t speak.

Mana dropped his hand and hugged himself, wearing a self-deprecating smile. “Neah was always much more brave than me, and when he was gone… I couldn’t move forward. But I found you, Allen, and despite it all, we’re here now.”

Had Neah been braver? Fear had been the one thing always chasing Neah, nipping at his heels, driving him to despair and broken cries under an unseeing moon. Neah wasn’t sure if that was bravery, or just the constant drive to protect what he considered his.

“So,” Mana said, looking at the waving wheat field, “you shouldn’t apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for. In fact, I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“No,” Allen blurted, pushing off of Neah and towards Mana. “No, no you were everything. You saved me, even when you were g-gone. Without you, I wouldn’t be here now. Don’t apologize, Mana,” Allen’s voice broke on his name, and he gave an empty laugh surely meant to be consoling.

Satisfied that, at the very least, they had made amends, Neah finally moved to intervene. “Enough, if one of you starts crying then the other is going to start, and that’ll _never_ end.”

“Neah!” Mana admonished, but there were already tears in his eyes. Mana, forever the crybaby.

“I’m surprised you could keep your mouth shut for that long,” Allen scowled, voice watery as he sniffed.

Neah snorted, crossing his arms. “If I’d spoken up, you two would’ve taken the chance to use me to get out of the conversation. This has been a misunderstanding for too many years and I’m bored of it.”

Allen rolled his eyes, finding his temper again the longer Neah spoke. “You’ve only been awake for five seconds, you didn’t even know about half of this until two minutes ago.”

“Exactly,” Neah nodded. “I just learned about it and I’m already bored to tears. Let’s move on to more exciting subjects, like how much _you’ve_ changed. What on earth did you do to your hair?” Neah moved to grasp an offending lock of it but Allen slapped his hand away.

“I was wondering about that as well,” Mana added, frowning even as his lashes were still wet with water. “You had the cutest red fluffy hair when you were little. Now it’s all white!”

The remark left Allen’s cheeks burning as red as what his hair must’ve been like, and he scowled. “I tried to get rid of it!” He said, defensive. His left hand reached up, covering some of his hair from view.

Mana blinked. “No matter what color your hair is, you’ll always be handsome, Allen. As long as you smile and don’t wear that awful frown.”

Allen colored even more, and Neah was amused enough to not step in and stop the slow death Mana was inflicting on Allen.

“It changed on its own,” Allen muttered, eyes canting to the side.

“My face changed on its own too,” Mana nodded, so serious that Neah couldn’t help the derisive laugh that burst from him. “What?” Mana demanded, scowling, because Neah had often laughed at him with seemingly little provoking. Even Allen was faintly smiling.

“Nothing, nothing, I just always miss you,” Neah snickered, rubbing the back of his hand against his mouth. “But on faces changing, how come Cross’ never did? The bastard looks the exact same despite 36 years,” Neah grumbled. Arrogant ass.

“Master sold his soul,” Allen said gravely, “but the devil took one look and swore to _never_ deal with Master again, so now we have to deal with him wandering the earth for the rest of time.”

“...really?” Mana asked, eyes faintly wide.

“I don’t know,” Allen admitted. “He never told me why he didn’t change.”

“Sounds about right,” Neah snorted. It was one mystery Neah would like to solve, if he could stand being in the same room as Cross long enough to have the conversation. And if Cross would tell him. The bastard would be just as delighted to rub it in his face that Neah couldn’t figure it out on his own.

Suddenly, without warning, Allen’s knees gave out on him. Reflexively, both Mana and Neah reached to catch him but only succeeded in following Allen to the ground.  

“Allen!” Mana’s eyes were wide with alarm, and Neah was equally worried. A quick glance at the sun reminded him that time was still passing. He was so used to the eternal miniature garden that he’d forgotten it was different this time.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Allen said, holding his head as he kneeled. “I just got a little dizzy.”

Neah studied him closely, wondering if it was too many feelings in too short a time, or the passing of time itself affecting Allen.

“We’ll sit then,” Mana said promptly, as if that’d solve the entire problem. He kneeled, hands propping himself up as he leaned forward to inspect Allen. Embarrassed, Allen looked askance, as if begging Neah to save him.

“I agree,” Neah sat cross-legged, resting his chin on his bent elbow that was on his knee while he leered at Allen. “The poor boy can’t handle all of this.”

“Shut up!” Allen hissed, before darting guilty eyes at Mana.

Mana waved his hand, smiling. “Don’t feel bad about it, Allen. He makes everyone lose their temper.”

Preening at the praise, Neah grinned.

“You’re insufferable,” Allen muttered, one hand still holding his temple.

Mana eyed him carefully as Allen focused on steadying himself. Then, being alarmingly astute, Mana said, “Allen, tell me about your time since we parted. Neah already knows most of it, but I’ve missed all these years with you. Won’t you tell me?”

Allen colored, successfully distracted as he hesitated.

“Please,” Mana added, embarrassingly shameless about it in Neah’s opinion.

Slowly, as if peeling back layers of protective armor, Allen nodded.

 

It took very little time for Mana to make Allen comfortable enough to share, and only a little bit of Neah’s niggling to set off Allen’s more tempestuous nature.

"—you know what he did then?" Allen said, speaking over the wind that wound a path between them, waving with his hands to paint the scene for them. "He nearly stabbed me! Well, not just once. Or twice."

Neah laughed, the sound mingling with Mana's softer chuckles. "Is there anyone who didn't try to kill you the moment they met you?"

Allen scowled, a petulant look that was too endearing to be intimidating. A moment passed, and then another, and then Allen was genuinely frowning in thought. "...Lenalee, I think."

"You think?" Mana echoed, amused.

"If you say think of someone who _didn't_ try to kill me, then all I'm going to do is think of everyone who did," Allen protested, "and well, the list is quite long."

Neah laughed harder, eyes tearing.

"Mana!" Allen never quite whined, but he always got dangerously close, a drawn out little plea that Mana seemed to be immune to, though Neah never quite was.

"Don't tease so much," Mana admonished, brushing the side of Neah's arm.

"I can't help it," Neah grinned, reaching over to check Allen under the chin. He glared and tried to snatch the offending hand, but Neah was quick enough to dodge. "He's just adorable when he's angry."

Rolling his eyes, Allen sighed and gave up, flopping back on the grass and staring at the blue sky. Watching him, Neah felt particularly tender, though where the origin of the emotion was he didn't know.

Mana reached over and patted Allen's stomach, drawing out a quiet laugh.

It ripped straight through Neah's heart.

It shouldn't have been like this, this delusion they were all desperately upholding. Allen should've grown up, his Allen should've stayed alive. They all should've, in one future, one time, together. Not the mess they were now.

Twisting around, Neah threw himself on his back beside Allen, landing half on his shoulder and inciting a sharp _ouch! Neah!_ that he promptly ignored, wiggling until they were neatly aligned side by side.

Then, before Allen could protest, Neah scooted even closer, until his cheek was beside Allen's, and he burrowed into the space between Allen's neck and shoulder.

Ticklish, Allen held back a laugh as he shoved halfheartedly at Neah, "Stop, you're too close! You're tickling me, _stop—"_

Mana, who was always more clever than he let on, lay down on his side. Aggressively he snuggled closer, until they looked more like a pinwheel, hair tangling together, side by side, staring at the sky.

It felt right, like this. Altogether, as one.

Allen must've felt it too, because even though he was laughing, boyish and light as air, Neah could feel a distinct wetness trail from Allen's cheek and onto his, cold where the wind blew.

"I know," Allen said, and clumsily he fumbled for Neah's hand, and Mana's too. "I know."

This is the end.

"We've still got time," Neah murmured, voice tight. "Don't think so hard, you always cluttered your head with too many thoughts."

"I ended up cluttering my head with you actually," Allen said, sardonic.

"And Mana," Neah added helpfully, gripping Allen's hand tight.

"...Mana, too."

For a moment, there was only the sound of wind through leaves and wheat.

"Neah," Mana began, tender and sweet, always so much more kind than Neah ever was. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Neah said, half laughter, half incredulity. Neah was the one doing this. Not Mana.

"Because," Mana continued, voice carrying from a smile. "In the end, you're doing all of this for me."

"Don't be conceited," Neah scoffed, squeezing Allen's hand and praying he wouldn't notice, but knowing already that it was too much to ask. "Maybe it's what I always wanted."

"Oh, Neah... you were always the one who wore his heart on his sleeve."

That? That was _bullshit_. Neah had done all he could to hide everything he knew, everything he felt. He'd gone through the veil of death and scraped off every part of him that was unerringly human. He'd perfected the smile Mana had wanted from him even when he was seething with an anger that was too much, too overwhelming, swallowing all of him.

"You were always there for me," Mana continued, as if he was speaking to thin air and not to them at all. "You were—" his voice hitched, broken, and immediately Neah panicked, heart hammering even as he lay still, voice stolen. "—because of you, I lived."

Mana, the kind, the naive, the fool, the selfish brother. The one Neah had given everything for. The one Neah was taking it all for.

"You were always a fool," Neah said. "Such a damn fool."

Mana laughed at that, watery and abrupt.

"And all you did was spread it everywhere. Even to Allen." Allen, a kind, big hearted, all-seeing idiot who had seen Neah defeated and still given him another chance. "Both of you are idiots."

"That's a little harsh," Allen murmured, thumb caressing the back of Neah's hand. "You're the one who depended on idiots like us."

"Shut up," Neah scowled, and he was trembling, he realized. It was easier for them. They'd be leaving.

It was Neah who was going to be left behind.

Suddenly manic, Neah sat up and turned to look at Mana and Allen, and what he saw left his stomach twisting.

Allen looked younger.

Neah couldn’t pinpoint exactly how or why, but Allen seemed much more sweet. Rounder cheeks, maybe, or the way his hair was styled somehow. Regardless, it was a vicious reminder.

“Hey,” Neah whispered, because laying like this they looked like they were sleeping. He prodded at Allen’s arm. “Hey, get up.”

Allen scowled, face scrunching up as he batted at Neah’s hand. “Come on,” Neah insisted. “Let’s go sit by the tree. Cornelia must be lonely, we should be keeping her company.”

Mana laughed, eyes opening as he leveraged himself up to sit, rubbing at one eye. “You say such strange things, Neah. I’d almost forgotten we’d named that tree.”

Ignoring the unease, Neah grabbed both of Allen’s hands and pulled him up, smiling faintly at the way Allen continued to feign sleep even as he laughed. “Here, Mana, grab his legs, we’ll just drag him over there—”

Before Neah had even finished, Allen scrambled and brought all his limbs close together, glaring viciously at the potential harassment. “Well, look who’s done playing dead,” Neah said, hoping they couldn’t hear his fear.

“I’m just feeling a little tired, that’s all,” Allen said, scowling. True to his word, he rubbed at his eyes, holding back a yawn. “Laying in the grass with the wind and the sun… makes me want to nap.”

Mana hummed in agreement. Neah, who was wide awake, bit his lip.

Still, he hassled them into they finally moved towards Cornelia. Maybe by sitting up, they’d stay awake longer.

Mana sat with an exaggerated sigh and groan, as if he was still forty and not the seventeen year old he now looked like. Neah sat beside him, debating momentarily if he should leave space for Allen between them, but Mana solved the dilemma by holding his arms out.

“No.” Allen protested, coloring.

Mana laughed, face open and bright as he wiggled his fingers. “Come on Allen, I miss you. You used to always want hugs even when you wouldn’t ask for them.”

Allen grew redder, obviously very much wanting to but feeling embarrassed, if his frequent glances at Neah were any indication.

Neah rolled his eyes, got on his knees, and yanked hard enough at Allen’s wrist that he fell with a hiss and a curse. “Neah, that _hurt!”_

“We all know you want to, why bother wasting time with being embarrassed? You’re family, and you’ve wasted enough years as it is.”

The remark sobered both of them, and, shyly, Allen nodded, face turned down and hands bunched on his knees.

It was Mana who moved again, smiling and opening his arms for Allen.

With a slight tremble in his frame, Allen nodded and sat close, hugging Mana back as he tucked his face into the crook of Mana’s neck and shoulder, unable to hide the way he shook. It was as if Allen was still regressing, and it felt like time was rushing past them, stealing more and more moments away.

“It’s okay,” Mana whispered, rubbing Allen’s back. “I’m here now.”

Neah remembered, then, that Allen had only been ten when Mana had left him. This was long overdue for them both.

Sitting back against Cornelia, Neah reached over and caressed Allen’s hair. Allen simply sat and hugged Mana with all that he’d held back before.

It felt, at long last, that old aches were being soothed, and old hurts being comforted. Neah stared at the horizon and listened to Allen’s soft lingering cries.

Curled into Mana's arms, Allen somehow looked younger than ever. Neah wondered, briefly, where his Allen had gone. If he'd ever come back, or if the Allen before him had swallowed him whole.

Mana swept Allen's bangs back from his head. The scar on his face was gone. Neah had grown so used to its presence that seeing it bare now disturbed him. He almost couldn't recognize him.

Allen was crying, but they were silent tears, face buried into Mana's chest and shoulders shaking. It was as if Allen was mourning the time they'd lost.

Mana was murmuring words Neah couldn't catch but that sounded like nonsense. Allen seemed to quietly break apart before Neah's eyes, a sight that disturbed him but that he couldn't look away from. Even when Neah had murdered with Allen's hand and left him in a body stained with blood, he hadn't broken like this.

"It's okay," Mana whispered, again and again, "you were so brave, Allen, so brave. I'm so proud of you."

Somehow, these words made it worse. Allen curled in tighter, as if begging to disappear. Briefly, Neah wondered where his friend had gone, or if he'd never known him well to know what might push him to break.

In the distance he could hear Katerina, gentle and lulling, voice filled with love and hope. Of ashes falling one by one, of gray eyes opening and stars being born. The song had always sounded like a goodbye to Neah. Mournful, rueful, sad.

Neah remembered the day he composed the melody to accompany Katerina's song. The Fourteenth's Room — a mockery of the only place he had to himself. The ark was his to control, but the doors were free for everyone to use. He hadn't denied them that, yet. He'd given it all to them in the beginning. As everything was, the beginning had been good.

It'd gone sour later, when Mana stepped forward as the Earl and Neah had been left behind with the ghost of himself.

His room had been the one place where no one could follow him, and though he had always welcomed Mana when he'd come looking, more often than not Mana had fallen to the Noah's easy affection, craving what he'd been denied growing up sickly.

There, plucking strings one by one, humming the song to himself over and over, Neah escaped the loneliness that had come to haunt him. That was back when Neah had let such things control him. He'd abandoned that when he'd died.

"Mana," Allen whispered, and Mana hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind Allen's ear. Allen seemed even younger now, with bright eyes. "Mana, where are we going now?"

"Somewhere," Mana said. This was a side of him Neah had never seen. Paternal, older. Somehow, Neah knew this was the Mana the rest of the Noah had known. Someone to look up to. "Where everything is okay, and where we'll always have a place to sleep."

Against Mana's chest Allen nodded, eyes focusing on a button beside his nose. He reached up and with a black fingernail tapped on it, a rhythmic _tak tak tak._ Allen seemed content to stay there, curled up in Mana's arms in the middle of that vast wheat field.

Mana leaned down and rested his cheek on Allen's head, eyes meeting Neah's.

_Tak tak tak._

"Somewhere where we'll never have to say goodbye again," Mana whispered, and Neah knew then that he wasn't speaking to just Allen anymore. He grabbed Mana’s hand to hold, curling his fingers in tight, throat constricted. "Where we'll all be together."

_Tak tak tak._

"Together," Allen said. His voice was thick, breaking just the slightest at the edges.

"I'm sorry," Mana said, and Allen stiffened, his tapping abruptly stopping before resuming. Mana soothed his hair back again, smiling even though Allen couldn't see it. "I never meant for this to happen. I never wanted... you weren't a replacement to me, Allen."

"I wasn't?" Allen asked, voice thin and reedy now, desperate with hope and disbelief.

"No, never," Mana said, and for the first time Neah wondered if this was a lie. He had never known Mana to lie, but there was this look in his eyes that Neah didn't know. Was it because he'd never been a father?

_Tak tak tak._

_Tak—_

"Thank you," Allen stammered, abrupt and sudden, as if a dam had burst forth. He wrapped his fingers tight in Mana's shirt, shoulders bunching. "I... I never said it. Thank you."

Mana brought him close, clicking his tongue. "You never had to, Allen. You were only a child."

"But I— Mana I— I... _I hurt you,"_ Allen cried, anguished. He shook his head, curling up tighter into himself but never moving away from Mana. "I hit you and it... it changed you. And I... I made everything happen."

"Everything?" Mana asked, teasing, and Allen nearly scowled. "You were just a child — wrapped up in all of this... this isn't your fault."

"But I—"

"No," Mana said, firm. "It's not your fault, and it never was. It... it was mine and Neah's."

Allen tensed, taut and stressed like the balancing wire of a trapeze act, and Neah watched, wondering when the play would crumble. The wind nearly obscured the shudder in Allen's breaths as he valiantly tried to hold off the tears that were inevitable.

"Look," Mana urged, grasping Allen's hand and pulling it towards his face. He cupped Allen's hand and placed it against his cheek, and Allen moved the tiniest bit to see Mana's face. "See? I'm fine. I'm here — I'm alright, you didn't hurt me."

Allen's gaze roved over Mana's, greedy, and this wasn't the Mana he knew, no, this was Neah's, but Neah suspected Allen didn't really care what he looked like as long as it was _him._

Allen managed a watery hum, looking years and years younger with every passing moment. This was an Allen that Neah had never known, wide-eyed with round cheeks, gullible and naive. The two people Neah had known best, Mana and Allen, had changed in ways he'd never learn now.

Allen let his forehead fall onto Mana's chest, eyes closing. "Yeah," he said at last.

The wind whistled, eerie and lonesome.

"Mana?"

"Yes, Allen?"

"Did you love me?"

"I always loved you."

"But was it always me?"

Mana's breath caught, and Allen smiled, rueful and sardonic, knowing.

"...I don't know," Mana answered, anguished and honest. "I... I can't remember. But you were always important to me, Allen, you were always the one I wanted to keep safe."

"Yeah," Allen whispered, "yeah, I know."

The sun was setting and turning the golden fields into fire, a fierce orange and red that felt almost wild, almost real. It was almost gone now. Soon, the night would emerge and the moon would rise and the stars, lonely burning flames of light, would canvas the sky over.

Soon.

Allen yawned and Mana reached up to rub at one eye. Neah was struck with a sudden sense of panic, and he clutched at Mana's hand, surging forwards.

"Don't!" Neah said, desperate and all at once insane. This was all he had ever wanted, this was everything he had worked towards. There was no sense in ending it now, but, still, and yet... _"Don't."_

"Don't what?" Allen mumbled, eyes closed, lashes fine and soft on his cheeks.

"Talk to me," Neah demanded instead, loud in their quiet murmurs. "Anything, everything, just — talk to me."

"Talk?" Mana asked, words slurring. "Talk about what, Neah?"

He reached over and ran his fingers through Allen's hair, quicksilver but soft, and felt his own pride crumble at the sight of his shaking fingertips. "It doesn't matter," Neah tucked one strand of Allen's hair behind his ear, but all he did was shift slightly. "Before the sun sets, talk to me."

"Heh," Mana laughed, slumping slightly against the tree as he held Allen more firmly in the circle of his arms, breathing too deeply for Neah's liking. It was getting dark now, enough so that it was hard to distinguish Mana's hair. "You always said strange things, Neah. Do you still talk to the wind?"

Allen hummed, as if to be polite, but he didn't open his eyes.

"Yeah," Neah said, "all the time. I can hear it now." It was whistling in his ears, like a roaring rain or a storm or maybe like a hurricane. "Mana," Neah pleaded, reaching to grab his arm tight. Mana's brows dipped down, lashes parting to reveal gold eyes. The sun was almost entirely gone now, a sight Neah had never seen no matter how long he'd spent in this dreamscape. "Mana," Neah moved closer, until he could feel Mana and Allen's warmth.

"Mana, did you love me?"

Mana laughed, a short huff of amusement that ruffled Allen's hair. He reached up and grasped Neah's hand to hold. "Of course I did, Neah. That never changed."

"I love you," Neah said, words leaving him like broken glass, cutting his throat and falling bloody and shattered. "You and Allen and..."

He stared at Mana and Allen's face, eyes beginning to burn the longer he held them, but the last of the sun's rays were dying out and he knew the moment he closed his eyes they'd disappear.

"I'm sorry, Mana," Neah breathed. "I'm so sorry."

Neah's eyes were tearing up, a burning so intense he had to force away the urge to blink.

Mana looked up at him one last time and smiled.

"It's okay, Neah. Remember?"

Neah sucked in a shuddering breath, shoulders shaking, and nodded the motion sending the tears in his eyes spilling over.

"Don't stop. Keep walking."

Neah closed his eyes.

 

Neah was alone.

He'd never been truly alone before. There had always been Mana, and then Allen, and now there was no one.

His mouth began to tremble and he realized, slowly, that this was heartbreak.

He was alone.

He'd never see Mana or Allen again. He'd won. He was at the end of it all. He grasped at Allen's shirt, clutching at it and curling in, holding himself together.

He'd said he'd thrown away everything he could for this, but now he realized he'd never done it at all. He'd just hidden it from sight, like a child, and now there was no one to hide it from.

The tears came before the ache in his chest and then, all at once, he was crying. Heaving sobs that hurt with tears that blurred his vision. It had been so long since he'd last cried, he'd forgotten just how painful, just how rending, it was.

This was the end.

This was the end and Neah was alone.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter @ nea_chi  
> tumblr @ nea-writes


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